Bloodshot

Mircea slowly rose, taking the proffered hand. Her grip was white hot lightning, searing into his flesh. He instinctively recoiled, surprised by the surge of energy. Uriel smiled, her face aglow. He was mesmerized by her ethereal beauty and grace, watching her study the displayed pages with great interest. Minutes ticked by before he found his voice once more.

“I have a grimoire?” he tore his gaze from the angel and looked down. The swirling characters were unreadable to him, foreign, but he now understood that they spelled out instructions - as most spell books did - for how to ‘manage’ other worldly creatures.

“You have the grimoire,” Uriel corrected, she waved a hand over the pages, the letters suddenly glowed. Mircea instinctively drew back. “Written by Abaddon herself before her fall from grace.”

Mircea’s eyes snapped up, “Her fall from grace?”

Uriel withdrew her hand and the pages disappeared from the floor, “She penned the Libri hundreds of thousands of years ago, when humanity was still in its infancy.” Uriel clasped her hands in front of her, “She knew of Satan’s jealousy and his plans to betray our Father, and so she wrote these instructions in hopes of giving humanity a fighting chance.” A book, this one bound in supple engraved leather, suddenly appeared in Uriel’s hands. She offered Mircea the book, and after a moment’s hesitation he took it.

“God saw her actions as dangerous,” Uriel continued, “He thought she had betrayed her own kind by making our weaknesses known.”

Mircea opened the book, the musings had been translated into Latin, a language Mircea understood all too well. “The original writings were in a language I’ve never seen before,” he glanced up at Uriel.

She smiled and nodded, “The Angelic have their own alphabet.”

Mircea began to read the section marked Djinn, a smile formed on his lips, “Genies exist?” No response.

He glanced up, suddenly finding himself alone once again.

***

Cade was in agony, it felt as though he were burning alive. He cried out, begging Abaddon to stop. Her words bouncing off of the walls around him, echoing in his mind. His muscles seized and he struggled against those who held him down. He felt bile rise in his throat and he began to choke.

Cold fingers pushed passed his lips, forcing his jaws open. He gagged and tried to turn his head, but they continued until they grazed the back of his throat, scooping the black bile from his airways.

A rush of air filled his lungs and Cade thankfully gulped it in. His body relaxed and he began to feel a weight lift from him, as though the dark gloom was dissipating.

“I think you did it,” Adora sounded so far away.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the exhaustion finally took its toll. He croaked her name, his beloved Abaddon had saved him.

Six hours. It had taken six hours for her to finish the exorcism. She was just as exhausted as Cade. The moment everyone cleared out of the room, she checked him just one more time to ensure all corruption was gone. When his veins no longer turned black, she knew she had succeeded. Beside the bed, she left a note with instructions on how he could further protect himself from future attacks.

Cade,

There is alot you do not know, or perhaps don’t understand. I am not your typical War Mage. That is merely a cover story, as I am sure you have guessed by now. I am what is known as The Angelic. We are Humans infused with the life force of Angels. Hence my name, Abaddon. We are warriors sent down to Earth in order to protect the Human race, to assist in the battle against creatures far more powerful and dangerous than any Vampire or Shifter known to man. We are a secret sect, though now quite a hanful know my true nature. Mircea was one of the first to understand what I am. You are now the second that I have told my secrets to. The creature that attacked my family was not a Shifter, but a Demon. The same Demon that attached itself to you.

Along with this letter are two necklaces. One a platinum cross that has been blessed by the most powerful exorcist in recorded history. The other is a small platinum vial filled with holy water. Since you can not wear silver, platinum is the next best thing. It is a nearly unbreakable metal and it is still pure enough to ensure that a Demon can not touch it. There is also a business card with the number of a very good tattoo artist. Tank is no ordinary artist, he is a wardsmith that poses as a bouncer for Lunar. I am sure you know him. He has been my tattoo artist for years and I think it would be wise to repair your aura with what he can offer. The choice in design is yours, of course, but I recommend something that would ward off any Demonic attack. I ask that you call Tank as soon as you wake up and tell him I sent you. Knowing him, he probably won’t charge you anything. If he does, it would more than likely be some small favor he will call you on later down the road.

Please heed my advice. It will save your life, and your soul.

- Abaddon

The letter she did not place in an envelope, but simply folded it and set it on the table beside his bed.

“I am utterly wiped.” She mentioned out loud as she entered the bedroom that she and Mircea shared. Stripping off her clothing as she made her way towards the bathroom, Abaddon was desperate to get clean. She felt dirty. She always did after dealing with Demons. There was always an oily, sticky feeling that followed.

The hot steam that quickly filled the bathroom was like a security blanket. She felt safe and secure once she stepped beneath that heavenly hot spray of water.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Mircea followed his lover’s scent through the quiet halls. He was unsure of the number of hours that had passed since he had been visited by Uriel. He had fallen asleep at some point which momentarily threw off his sense of time. Before nodding off though, he had spent the day reading Abaddon’s Libri, finding himself completely enthralled by her writings. Her work had been honest and eloquently written, describing many supernatural creatures and how they could be destroyed. She had even included a section on angels and demons, putting herself in grave danger should the wrong person possess the book.

Mircea had newfound respect for Abaddon. The bravery that it must have taken for her to defy God and put her own eternal life in jeopardy was more than he could ever muster. She was remarkable to say the least.

He soon found himself entering his bedroom, the lazy fire crackled on the grate, casting shadows on the walls. Abaddon’s clothing had been carelessly dropped on the floor outside of the bathroom, and he could hear the shower running behind the closed door.

He knelt and hurriedly concealed the book inside of a locked cabinet, slipping the key back into its hiding spot nearby. Rising, he unbuttoned his shirt and entered the bathroom, dropping it onto the floor. Steam filled the room, and the steady stream of water drummed out a soothing beat.

Mircea stood against the closed bathroom door, watching her silhouette move behind the frosted glass. He felt a familiar stirring below his waistband, and his hand slid down the front of his trousers. He slowly rubbed himself over his clothing, watching her hands slide up and down her body as she slowly washed herself. An excited moan escaped his lips.

His pants were growing uncomfortably tight as his arousal increased, and he quickly slipped out of them. He approached the glass slowly, not wanting to startle her, and gently rapped on the shower’s door.

It slid open, revealing Abaddon’s naked body. Water streamed over her curves in steady rivulets, and her long hair was plastered to her glistening skin. Without waiting for a proper invitation, Mircea entered, sliding the glass shut behind him. He forced her backwards, up against the warm tiles. He kissed her, his hungry mouth nearly devouring hers. He guided her hand to his engorged member, pressing himself against her.

Mircea gasped, momentarily breaking their kiss, “I need you.” He was panting, shuddering at her touch. He trailed kisses across her cheek, down to her neck, but he quickly moved back to her lips. Mircea wanted to drain her, but he purposefully stopped himself, marshaling his innate desires. The delicious torture that came from denying himself a drink enhanced the pleasure.

The hot water beat down on his back, warming his cold skin. He rested his forehead atop her shoulder, rocking his hips back and forth as she held him.

“Good girl,” he hissed, as she stroked him to full arousal, “Now on your knees.” He was forceful, playing on her secret need to be dominated. Mircea enjoyed watching her submit to him; she looked vulnerable, no longer the powerful Fallen Angel. Their first night together had been wonderful, but it had happened too quickly. Mircea hadn’t allowed himself enough time to truly enjoy her body, but he would make up for that tonight. She was his plaything now.

The feel of the black marble tile as it pressed against her back was cooler than the near scalding heat of the water, or the blaze of heat that seemed to be radiating off of Mircea’s skin. The urgency of his words as he claimed he needed her sent her heart racing, beating almost frantically within her chest.

“I always need you.” She said softly, her voice just barely above a whisper. Her fingers closed firmly yet gently around his growing arousal. There was something powerful about holding that delicate, sensitive flesh in her hands. And that power only grew as Abaddon sank slowly to her knees in front of him. She watched the expression on Mircea’s face as she knelt there, the sinful warmpth of her mouth just mere inches from the very tip of that hardened flesh she held in her hands. Slowly, her lips parted allowing the tip of her tongue to swirl teasingly and lazily along his engorged skin. Her eyes never left his face and the look in those smokey grey eyes of hers certainly clarified the defination of “bedroom eyes”.

Without a word, her hand gripped the base of him just as her lips enveloped that hardened flesh, her mouth working slowly over every inche of him until her lips met her fingers. Her throat relaxed and she took him even deeper. She watched his eyes flutter closed as her throat convulsed around him. She watched the sheer tourtured look on his face as she slowly pulled back until he was almost free from her mouth’s embrace. Just before she pulled away completely, she slid him back inside the tight, hot cavern of her mouth in one smooth and quick gesture. She continued for sometime; slowly out then quickly back in, until he was all but begging her to stop.

“Enough,” he barely managed. Mircea, bracing himself against the ceramic tiles, shuddered. “Enough,” his voice clear and strong; she was driving him mad, bringing him to the brink of a powerful release. Her grip loosened, and he pulled himself from her capable mouth. She looked up at him with her big innocent gray eyes, her lips hovering so closely to his swollen phallus.

Mircea stepped back, his chest heaving, “Stand, quickly.” He helped Abaddon to her feet and hurriedly pushed his hand between her legs. He steadied her against the cool tiles once more, staring into her eyes as he slid his fingers along her quivering sex. His thumb rubbed against her swollen bud, “Shut up.” He pressed his lips against hers, stifling her moans. He was excited at being in control, if only for the night, and forced his tongue passed her lips. She was leaning heavily against the shower wall, his fingers teasing, never fully penetrating her. He pulled his mouth from hers, and slid his hand away.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled softly, taking a moment to admire her voluptuous figure. He leaned forward, gently kissing her exposed breasts, his hands wrapped around her narrow waist, keeping her pinned against the tiles. He opened his mouth, drawing in a stiff nipple. He slurped noisily, glancing up at Abaddon before moving to her other breast.

Mircea finally knelt before her, his hands on her hips. He looked up at her and smiled mischievously. He could feel her tremble as he began to kiss her upper thighs, coaxing her legs apart slightly. His hands slid down and roughly grasped her outer thighs, his tongue darting out and swirling around her rigid button. She shivered, encouraging him. Mircea moved forward, sliding his wet tongue between her swollen lips. He held her firmly, enjoying the soft mews that she made every time he licked her sweet spot.

He groaned, feeling his arousal throb between his legs; he was ready to release, but he held back, desperate to drag this moment out for as long as he could. His nails dug into her hot flesh, he could feel her nearing her own finish; his tongue pushed upwards, passed her sensitive folds - penetrating her. He pulled back, giving her a moment to collect herself before he pressed his face against her once more and roughly pushed his tongue inside of her.

Her body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out, and it wasn’t just from the heat of the water raining down around them. Her fingers tangled in Mircea’s hair, holding him to her even as she wanted to pull him away to stop the torment of pleasure that held her within it’s tight grip. Her body convulsed instinctively as each sweep of his tongue sent shockwaves through nearly every nerve ending. Abaddon cried out when that wicked tongue roughly sought its way inside of her. The fire of release was so close, within her reach and yet Mircea pulled back just a moment before it rushed over.

With a near growl of frustration, Abaddon hooked her leg behind on of his and in a move that would have made her Judo instructor proud, she had the Vampire pinned beneath her on the black tile floor of the massive shower. This time, it was her turn for control and before Mircea could open his mouth to utter some command, she silenced him with a searing and breath taking kiss. There was hunger evident in the gesture, but there was also a loving tenderness that would have melted anyone on the spot. If he had any doubts about how she felt for him, or if she had feelings for Cade still, they melted away with that kiss.

She moved with liquid grace, a leg stradling each side of the Vampire’s hips as she rocked her body forward and backward ever so slowly, teasing the tip of his overly hard flesh with the very entrance of her warmpth. It brought a groan from both of them which turned into gasps as Abaddon suddenly slid the full length of him deep inside of her with one smooth and practiced stroke.

______________________________________________

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.Through passion, I gain strength.Through strength, I gain power.Through power, I gain victory.Through victory, my chains are broken.The Force shall free me.

Her scorching kiss quieted any protest he may have had to her sudden command of his body. Mircea looked up at his lover, an insatiable desire welling up inside of him. His nails dug into her hips as she lowered herself onto him. His back suddenly arched, shoulders pressed against the warm shower floor, driving himself into her fully.

He groaned loudly, his eye closed. They settled momentarily, the steam collected above them as the hot water beat down against her back. Mircea lowered his hips, pulling himself nearly out of her, but she matched his movements, grinding lower. He grunted, thrusting upwards, desperate to fill her.

“Faster,” he heard himself nearly beg. Her movements struggled to match his own frantic thrusts, but soon their bodies had synchronized - moving as one. He closed his eyes, moaning loudly as she drove him closer and closer to his final release.

His long nails bit into her trembling flesh, keeping her impaled on his swollen manhood. He could feel himself losing control, his thrusts growing desperate and unrestrained. Mircea knew that he could no longer hold back, and finally succumbed.

“Yes,” he growled and drove his hips upwards one last time; a moment later he let out a cry, losing himself in the first wave of pleasure. He gasped for air, pulling down roughly on her hips as he ground himself up into her, another wave of extreme pleasure and he felt himself nearly explode inside of her. Abaddon’s warm velvety folds held him tightly, allowing him to empty completely into her.

Mircea whimpered, finding himself spent, but he still thrusted into her, desiring more. He reached up, and grasped her breast, the hot water made her skin glisten. His fangs extended, and the innate need to drink became too much to bear. He turned his head, trying to marshal his desires.

"Bite me, Mircea." Abaddon all but begged. Her body struggled to find that last shred of need that would send them both spiraling over the edge yet again. She knew she could get more from him, she felt it. "Please." That one word began to turn into a chant, a soft plea of aching need. It almost felt to her as if she would never get another chance again and she felt tears burn in her eyes. "Please." Her voice was soft, husky still begging him to give them what they both wanted, no needed. "Please."

Finally, he relented and sat upward, his body still buried deep inside of hers as far as he could go. The change in the angle pushed him even deeper and Abaddon cried out, her voice nearly echoing off the shower walls. She felt his lips against one of her breasts, the only thing that he could reach at the moment. His teeth grazed her nipple, making her shudder almost violently in pleasure. His tongue lapped at her flesh, making her groan and arch her back, her body sliding his even further deep within her. Then, suddenly, his fangs pierced her swollen, hardened nipple. Abaddon screamed in pleasure, her body tightening and convulsing around Mircea who was buried as deep as he could go inside of her. Stars danced behind her closed eyes and she thought for a moment, that he was going to pass out, but she slid almost bonelessly until she lay spent partially ontop of him and partially on the water slicked tile beneath them.

Her scorching hot blood trickled into his hungry mouth, his tongue swirling around her swollen nipple. She cried out, pressing herself down onto him. He groaned and sunk his sharp fangs deeper; her life force surging passed his lips. His dark, intense eyes closed, and he reluctantly released her breast. Mircea knew he could not drain her without seriously harming his own child, and so he collapsed backwards, relishing in her powerful release. She fell forward, crumpling to the slick shower floor.

“Give me about a half hour and I will be able to move.”

Mircea did not respond immediately, his breathing labored and rapid. Her powerful blood coursed through his veins, reinvigorating his body. She slid completely off of him, releasing him. The hot water beat down on their exhausted bodies.

“Take all the time you need,” he mumbled, “I could lie here with you for an eternity.” He reached up and gently touched his lips; pulling back, Mircea saw that his fingers were smeared with Abaddon’s blood, and he greedily licked them clean before the water had a chance to wash it away. He glanced at her. Her eyes were closed and her long arms had been drawn up under her chin. She looked so innocent and beautiful.

Mircea grunted and sat up, they couldn’t stay in the shower forever, despite how much he wanted to. He easily lifted Abaddon and slid the shower door open. Stepping out onto the cool tiles, he shivered. Her live blood had made his limbs sensitive once more, and he quickly exited the bathroom.

***

“How long have I been out?” Cade coughed loudly and sat up. The sheets slipped from his bare torso, pooling around his waist. He felt the blood rush from his head, and he nearly toppled over, but Mircea quickly caught him, guiding him back onto the pillows.

“Lie still, you fool,” Mircea’s voice was gruff, but not entirely unfriendly. A glass of cool water appeared in the vampire’s hand. “Drink,” he spoke softly.

Cade grasped Mircea’s sleeve, desperately gulping down the clear liquid, “Abaddon?” he croaked once the glass had been drained, “Where is Abaddon?”

Mircea’s expression darkened momentarily, and he ignored the question, “Try to get some sleep, you've been through quite an ordeal.”

Abaddon was curled comftorably beneath the thick down comforter still naked from her love making session with Mircea in the shower. Her long, jet black hair was still slightly damp and fanned out against the scarlet satin pillow case that matched the sheets. She was absolutely beautiful, stunning. Even Uriel had to admit that. Where as hers was striking, Abaddon's was one of those subtle beauties that shined brighter when her true character showed. Uriel moved away from the shadowed corner and sat down on the edge of the bed. The other woman was so exhausted that she didn't even so much as stir from her slumber. She raised her hand, letting it hover near Abaddon's abdomen. She could feel the life force of the fetus within her, but it was weak, and Uriel knew that the child would not make it. It saddened her greatly, but there was nothing anyone could do. Though concieved in love, this child was not meant to be. The Angel sighed softly, her heart aching for her dear friend.

Let her go. His words seemed to echo back into his own ears abd they sounded selfish. He lifted his hands to his face, rubbing the growing stubble on his chin. He sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry, Mircea. I had no right to say that. Going through a Demonic attack, then an Exorcism made me realize what's important to me." Cade dropped his hands back into his lap. "I just want to make sure she is happy, that she is safe."

"Then we both finally have something in common." The Vampire replied, sitting down in an overstuffed leather chair in the corner of the room.

"Isn't is strange how fucked up events and occurances can make a man out of someone?"

“Ah, my sister,” the voice came from below - from the inky shadows. Uriel paused, her wings folded in as she silently landed amongst the blooming roses. The angel, her statuesque form highlighted by the full moon, scanned the garden; she recognized the voice, but could not see him.

“Fresh from visiting our Abaddon?” the shadows quivered and a tall man emerged, a thick viscous mist pulsed in his wake. “Tell me, how is the dear?”

Uriel inhaled, waiting for her brother to approach, “Astaroth,” she whispered, “I’m surprised you found another human so willing to let you in.”

Astaroth smiled and stretched his arms, “My sister, humanity is ripe with the corrupt and morally depraved.” He patted his chest, “This meat sack practically begged me to fill him up.” His lips twisted into a handsome smile, “I look good don’t I?”

Uriel did not respond, she simply watched the daemon dance in the moonlight. His arms in the air.

“Pity,” he stopped, cheeks slightly flushed with the effort, “Humans are so clumsy, their bodies so limited.” He adjusted his trench coat, and brushed himself off.

“Stay away from Abaddon,” Uriel finally spoke.

“Hmm?” Astaroth pretended as though he hadn’t heard her warning, “Did you say something, dear sister?’

Uriel smiled, “You are not as strong as you once were.” She moved forward, closing the distance between herself and the cocky daemon, “That wolf, the one called Cade, fought you, didn’t he?”

Astaroth looked up, a dark expression flashed across his face.

“He overpowered you several times,” Uriel’s smile widened, “Outside of that warehouse, momentarily in the library.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest, “Your power is waning. As she grows stronger, you are weakened.”

Uriel gasped and stumbled backwards, but he was already gone, vanishing just as quickly as he had appeared.

***

“Yes, these last few days have been... fucked up,” Mircea glanced up at Cade, “Your words, not mine.”

Cade laughed, relieved to have finally found some common ground with the strange vampire, “You can say that again.”

“I’d rather not.”

Cade smiled, reaching for another drink of water. He drained the glass rather quickly and placed it on the end table, “Thanks, by the way, for the water.”

Mircea nodded.

After a moment’s hesitation, Cade spoke, “I meant what I said.”

Mircea, having poured another tall glass of water for his guest, returned to his seat, “And what was that?”

“That I love Abaddon.” Cade picked up the glass, sipping at the cool liquid this time, “I sincerely meant that.”

Mircea, looking down at his polished shoes, solemnly nodded, “I know you do.” After a moment’s hesitation, the vampire made eye contact with Cade, “Which makes what I am about to tell you that much more difficult.”

Holy hell in a hand basket. Abaddon sat bolt upright in bed. Her eyes felt almost heavy lidded still, and sticky from sleep. Rubbing at them almost furiously to get that icky feeling from them, she tried to asertain what could have possibly woken her up so suddenly from such a deep sleep. Once her eyes were clear, she flicked her gaze over to the deepest shadows of the bedroom, but found nothing there, It was strange really. She had felt as though someone or something had sat on the bed beside her. It couldn’t have been the Demon. They had cleased the entire castle to ensure he could not enter again. Glancing down to the bed, she caught a glimpse of a single snow white feather resting lightly upon the comforter. Abaddon picked it up almost gingerly and knew instantly it had been Uriel who had been here. The feather seemed to glow within the darkness just before it was absorbed into the very flesh on the palm of her hand. There was a rush of warmpth that tingled its way up her arm as her power absorbed the gift that the other Angel had left behind.

Tossing back the covers, shee stood, naked from the sea of satiny crimson. The fabric whispered softly against her skin as it slid slowly down her body, almost like the skilled caress of a lover’s hand. She had to get dressed and go meet the High Court. They had called Mircea before Cade’s exorcism and had changed to meeting to as soon as Abaddon could make it. Why the urgency, she wasn’t sure. They were merely going to discuss the specifics of starting their own police force, weren’t they? Padding across the carpet on bare feet, she made her way over to the closet in which her clothes had been placed. Mircea’s expensive wardrobe sat on hangers neatly on one side of the massive closet. Hers were on the opposite side. She had more jeans and band t-shirts. His were mostly expensive, custom made Italian suits. She was so not the dress type. There was, however, a brand new leather jacket hanging just in front of her clothes with a small and elegantly written note attached.

A little something to keep you warm when I can not be with you.

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t have to be. She knew Mircea’s elegant script as if it were her own. She pulled the jacket off of it’s hanger. It was supple black suede that had been custom dyed so that it was as dark as the shadows themselves. Etched on the back in black thread were intricate wings that trailed down to her lower back. The jacket itself just barely missed the ground and it had a custom hole at the base of her neck where she could fit a sword if need be. There were also custom holsters on the inside of the jacket for extra ammo and blades. Feeling inspired by the jacket, Abaddon raided her closet in an attempt to find her outfit that would match.

Black suede pants clung to her legs as if they had been painted on. The outsides of the legs from her hip down to her ankle were visible between the criss-crossing suede ties that kept them closed. Knee high black suede boots were laced along the back and sported a three inch heel that was lethal looking and shimmered silver in the moonlight. The top she wore was more like a corsette, hugging her slender waist and lifting the girls to a rather fetching advantage. Thin black suede straps criss-crossed along her shoulders, baring her back and yet managed to cover the massive scar between her shoulder blades. She had slipped the shoulder holster on over the top, threading a slim leather belt through it so that it stayed in place. Thankfully her pants had tiny belt loops to help support the holster. The gun Mircea had given her sat in its rightful place beneath her left arm. The sword she slid within the custom slot at the back of her jacket had been another gift from Mircea.

The hilt of the sword was hidden easily by her hair. Once her hair was placed over it, it was virtually invisible. She would have to thank Mircea later for both the jacket and the new sword. The coat; once she put it one, fit her like a glove and moved easily no matter what she did.

Once she was dressed, Abaddon left the bedroom in search of Mircea to let him know she was leaving for the metting with the Court. She wanted to peek in on Cade first to see how he was holding up. Abaddon reached the door to his room; which hadn’t been placed too far from their own, and she knocked lightly upon it’s surface. Without waiting for a reply, she entered. A single brow arched questioningly when she noticed that both Cade and Mircea were in the same room and weren’t attempting to kill each other. The looks from both men made her rethink her choice of attire. They both had the same damn expression. It looked as though they had both been hit with a sledgehammer between the eyes.

The two men sat in awkward silence, Cade stunned by the revelation and Mircea sympathetic to his pain. There was a soft knock on the door. Neither man moved to answer, but the door whispered open anyway. The crisp click of metal heels against the polished floor caused both men to look away from one another.

“I see you found your gifts,” Mircea’s honeyed accent was the first to disrupt the deafening silence. He smiled and stood, allowing Abaddon to take his seat. She looked ravishing in all black, the suede hugging every delicious curve. Mircea glanced over at Cade; her beauty hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either. Cade shifted uncomfortably in the covers, his hands suddenly clasped in his lap.

He swallowed hard, “You look amazing.” Cade couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The long coat failed to conceal her body. His eyes touched every part of her, from her curvy thighs up to the swell of her breasts. Cade couldn’t help but drink her in.

“A little early for the Court, don’t you think?” Mircea interrupted Cade’s dirty thoughts. The men exchanged a curious glance.

Cade could feel himself grow stiff beneath his covers, and he quickly turned his head, desperate for them to leave.

“Always better to be early than late. And we all know how much the Court hates to wait on anyone. I also wanted to check on Cade.” Abaddon replied, sitting back in the chait Mircea had offered her. She crossed her legs in a single practiced movement, resting her hands on her knee almost casually. The pose seemed somewhat seductive even though she had no intention for it to be. She turned her attention back to Cade. “How are you feeling? My guess would probably be like hammered shit. Exorcisms are the most taxing on not just the body but the soul as you are now well aware.”

Her gaze flicked over to the end table. The necklaces were gone and she saw the subtle gimmer of platinum against Cade’s chest. Good, he had put them on which means he had also read her letter.

“I trust you will give Tank a call as soon as possible and add to that collection of tattoo’s of yours.” Abaddon paused for a moment. “Some of his wards can act as weapons as well. I suggest you may want to get one of those also. You never know when you will be in a place, unarmed and find yourself in a stick situation.”

There was a thickening silence. There seemed to be questions unasked and so she gave a soft sigh, moving her hands to the arms of the chair. “I would assume that there are questions about what I am. Mircea knows quite a bit about it, though I am sure he has his own questions as well. Ask what you will and if I can answer them, then I will.”

Mircea, hands clasped behind his back, slowly paced the room, offering Cade and Abaddon limited privacy. The vampire stared at the floor, his mind wandering; Abaddon’s Libri – the powerful grimoire – monopolized his thoughts. Under Uriel’s capable hands, the choppy script had been transformed into an elegant work of art. The book held so many secrets, lowering the veil that stood between humans and the supernatural. It evened the odds, giving humanity a fighting chance against those entities that wished to destroy it.

“Enough both of you.” Abaddon stood up abruptly, placing the palm of her hand on the chest of both men. “That is enough. The enemy is not in here. It is out there, trying to take over another body and it may have even succeeded. We need to keep our heads in the game here. If you both want to go back to hating one another after this is all over then I won’t stand in the way, but until then, put it aside.” She gently pushed Cade back down onto the bed and Mircea into the chair she had just occupied. For now, she would remain standing.

“What’s going on is exactly what the Catholic church and any other religious organization fears. It is the end of the word. The fight between good and evil and Hell has chosen Earth as it’s battleground. I am not a War Mage. I am of a secret order called The Angelic. We are War Angels sent to Earth in order to protect Humanity from the Demonic soilders that Lucifer is sending to collect souls to tip the battle more in his favor. The Angelic have been around for thousands of years, if not millions. I am not the leader of the Order, but I am the Second in Command. My name is Abaddon and I have the highest kill count of any Angelic sent to Earth. More so than our leader Michael. It tends to make Gabriel jealous.”

She turned her attention to Mircea for a moment. “You have already met Gabriel, Father Richards. And if I am not mistaken, Uriel has made herself known a few times already.”

Abaddon’s gaze flickered to Cade. “Do you remember anything about the Demon that attached to you? Perhaps his name? If we learn his name then we will have an advantage over him. Names have power and we can use that power to cast him back to where he belongs.”

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Peace is a lie, there is only passion.Through passion, I gain strength.Through strength, I gain power.Through power, I gain victory.Through victory, my chains are broken.The Force shall free me.

“The Angelic?” the words seemed foreign rolling off of his tongue. Cade stared at Abaddon, unable to wrap his mind around her revelation. She was an angel, an immortal like Mircea. Cade’s heart dropped, any connection he had had with Abaddon felt as though it had been severed.

“Do you remember anything about the Demon that attached to you? Perhaps his name? If we learn his name then we will have an advantage over him. Names have power and we can use that power to cast him back to where he belongs.”

He rose from the bed, feeling stronger by the minute; Abaddon’s exorcism had completely wiped his body clean of any evil. He felt alive again, invincible. “The daemon was male, I am sure of that.” Cade paused, absently playing with the pendants chained around his neck, “He referred to you as his sister.” Cade spun around, “Yes, I do remember that. He kept calling you ‘My sister... my sister’.”

Cade shrugged, “I’m sorry, sweetness,” he saw Mircea stiffen out of the corner of his eye, “I don’t remember much.”

“Well, this has been fruitful,” Mircea couldn’t help himself. He had offered Cade the relative safety of his home, and was repaid with betrayal. Cade had openly admitted to still desiring Abaddon, and showed no signs of being willing to back down.

“I know he was after something in your library, Mircea,” Cade fired back, he gently grasped Abaddon’s slender wrist, “What does your boyfriend have hidden amongst all of those books?”

“It is a grimoire.” She replied, glancing down to where Cade’s fingers held her wrist. It was a gentle touch and one she found that burned nearly like a brand against her skin. Casually, she tugged her wrist free, fighting the urge to rub where his skin had touched hers. It wasn’t that it hurt. In fact, it had felt good, almost right and that scared her.

“De Occulta Philosophia Libri III.” Abaddon continued, speaking the name of the ancient tome in a perfect accent. “The title is a mere facade for what really lies within it’s pages. Hidden in an ancient Magick are detailed pages of every preternatural creature on Earth. It makes the Book of Shadows look like a children’s story. Not only does it contain highly informative facts, but also ways to destroy nearly every creature on the planet that falls under the supernatural catageory.”

She sighed softly once more. “I wrote it thousands of years ago in hopes of giving Humanity a fighting chance should this battle ever come to fruition and I was not on this Earth.”

Abaddon grew silent for a moment as she thought about what Cade had said. “If he is called me his sister, then he must have been one of the Angelic at one time before cast out from His grace. There have been quite a few over the centuries, so it could be any one of them. I will have to do some more research once my meeting with the Court is over.”

The inky shadows began to recede as the sun made its appearance on the horizon. Cade, leaning against the black Mercedes, waited patiently for the Court to disperse. With morning quickly approaching, he knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the meeting ended and all of the pasty little night crawlers retreated into whatever black crevasse they had crawled out from.

He glanced down at his phone, a quarter of seven. He slid it back into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew Abaddon would be surprised to see him, but he hoped it would be the good kind of surprised.

***

Mircea, alone in his bedroom, retrieved Abaddon’s Libri from its place of concealment. The Vampire had feigned exhaustion in order to get out of attending the meeting with Abaddon, and - truth be told - she didn’t seem too put out by his absence. Mircea flipped through the pages; hundreds of intricate sketches turned into a great blur. He stopped suddenly, his finger on the chapter entitled ‘Daemons’. His long nail ran down the page as he read; Abaddon had - step by step - described how to not only ward off a daemon, but also how to kill the nasty creatures.

Mircea snapped the book shut. He knew how to use the grimoire to his advantage.

***

“Abaddon,” Cade pushed away from her car when she first appeared at the door. He caught a brief expression of shock as it crossed her face, but if she were angered by his presence, she certainly didn’t show it.

“I’m sorry, I followed you,” he smiled and met her by the trunk of the Mercedes; his bike had been parked nearby. “I just... I needed a few minutes alone with you.” He tilted his head to one side, “I’m feeling much stronger now, you don’t have to worry.” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Look, Mircea told me about the baby.” He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable, “And I’ll admit, I was pissed when I first found out, but I now realize just how selfish I was being.”

He boldly grasped her hand, “I was only thinking about myself.” He gave her a gentle squeeze, “While I should have been happy for you, for the life you have started, I was caught up in my own anger. I couldn’t stop thinking about how that should be my kid.” He stopped himself, and released her hand, “I’ve only come here to tell you that as long as you’re happy... that’s all that matters to me.”

Abaddon walked out of the Cathedral. It was an old abandoned church that had been renovated to house the Bloodstone Court. It was sort of ironic really that they had made their home in the house of God. She had caught glimpses of her Angelic image among the elaborately pained ceilings. It had an almost out of body experience to it. She was busy restocking her weapons that the Court had confinscated for the duration of her visit, and she didn’t notice Cade until he spoke her name. She glance up with a start, her fingers tightening momentarily on one of the silver knifes strapped to her right thigh. Knowing that he wasn’t hurt, or going to hurt her, she left her hand relax, falling away from the custom made holster for her knives that had been built into the black suede pants themselves. She watched him for a moment, noticing that his favorite pair of mirrored Aviator’s were pushed up onto his head. Though the sun was rising, it wasn’t bright enough to warrant the use of sunglasses just yet.

“You have the right to your emotions, Cade.” She replied, leaning almost casually against the driver’s door to the sporty black Mercedes that Mircea had given her. “I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m the one who walked out and ran. I have never been good with letting anyone in. After my parents death, I was alone. Even being trained at the Vatican I was devoted to my studies. When I came back to the City, I had a chance with you to not feel lonely again. At the time, I couldn’t handle it and for a while I was so dedicated on finding what had murdered my family. I didn’t have time to persue the feelings that I was beginning to have so I put them on the back burner and tried to forget.”

Abaddon gave a soft sigh, but it wasn’t really in defeat. “You just wouldn’t let me forget. Every where I ended up, you were there. Perhaps not physically, but your memory was nagging at my subcouncious.”

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Peace is a lie, there is only passion.Through passion, I gain strength.Through strength, I gain power.Through power, I gain victory.Through victory, my chains are broken.The Force shall free me.